Pesky Little Things
by rhea michelle malone
Summary: I am very near a year shy of being a legal adult. I am no longer some little fourteen year old boy who has not even a semblance of control over his raging hormones, so why am I having wet dreams?   Kurt's got a problem but Blaine teaches him a solution.
1. The Problem

Jesus. Christ. I am very near a year shy of being a legal adult. I mean, I'm really getting old. Pretty soon I'll be going to college and then a little after that I'll be able to legally drink. My point is, I am no longer some little fourteen year old boy who has not even a semblance of control over his raging hormones, so why is that I, a seventeen year old in a perfectly steady relationship with plenty of outlet for sexual release (granted we haven't actually moved past first base, but that's beside the point) am having wet dreams? Yes, wet dream's' as in, multiple. Two this week, in fact, and five total this month. I'm running out of reasons why I need to wash my bedding so often.

"Sheets washing time already, Kurt? Thought you did that on Monday." Finn pondered, cocking an oblivious eyebrow.

"Yeah. Actually, I left my window open and this flock of birds came in. Just pooped on everything. It was…bizarre." I lied, tossing my navy satin sheets hurriedly into the washer.

"Man." Finn nodded in awe, "You should keep your windows closed." He tipped me some brilliant advice before walking off to the kitchen. I don't even have any windows in my room.

Anyway, I finally broke down and tried to Google my…issue, and all I got was the unanimous result that wet dreams-even pretty frequent ones-are normal for a healthy seventeen year old. I'm pretty sure Google's lying to me, though. There is nothing normal about being unable to control all the stuff going on down there. I should be able to control it, right? At least to the point that I can stop having a remotely sexy dream and then wake up in a sticky mess-that sounds fair to me.

It's getting so bad that I have to think about funerals and nuns and like old people making out and stuff right before I go to sleep as a desperate attempt at stopping what all the pamphlets call 'nocturnal emission'. I'm starting to think maybe I should talk to someone.

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><p>"Ever listen to We Were Promised Jetpacks?" Blaine asks from his spot on his bed. I shake my head faintly, only half in there. More like a quarter. Or an eighth. Blaine notices this, rises from where he was sitting on his four poster and comes to sit beside me on his floor.<p>

"Hey." He nudges me softly, bumping my shoulder with his, "What's the matter with you today, you seem all distracted." His voice is calm and understanding, as if he genuinely wants to know my problems. I sigh and he slides his right hand to meet my left, they intertwine.

"You know you can tell me anything, right? Nothing's off limits, Kurt." I finally look him the eyes, his big, smoldering, honest brown puppy eyes and I can't resist.

"Okay. But you have to promise you won't tell anyone. Or be grossed out and leave me or something." I sputter, biting my bottom lip (nervous habit, you know.) Blaine lets out a little laugh at my insecurities, "I'm not going to leave you. I like you far too much for that." There's a pause in time and the air in the room is a vacuum until his head drifts to meet mine and his full lips meet my thinner ones. It's sweet and soft and comforting and reassuring. It's a promise, his kiss. Oh hell, I'm going to have to tell him now.

"So what's wrong?" He asks as he drifts back into his own space. I cough uncomfortably and squirm a little, obviously trying to avoid the question.

" I uh…I…I've been having…you see when you sleep and then you dream and, uh…I…Ikeephavingwetdreams." Wow. That was far more uncomfortable then it should have been. Leave it to me.

To my surprise, Blaine just grins. Full out grin, if he had dimples they'd be showing.

"What are you smiling about?" My voice is higher than normal, which must make my astounded inquisition even funnier to him. Now he starts laughing to himself, sort of quietly at first. I reach for the throw pillow sitting near me and gently whack him on the head with it.

"You are so…cute." He responds to my frustration, leaning over to kiss me again, this time his lips are curved upward into an unshakable grin that turns it more into a peck than a full on kiss, but whatever.

"How are my…" My voice lowers into a hissed whisper, "_wet dreams, _'cute'?" I ask incredulously, rising to my feet. Blaine follows suit and somehow pulls me onto his bed, on top of him. I place my hands on both sides of shoulder and open my hips up so that he fits right in between my legs.

"You're so…well, you're obviously not a prude," He smirks as I find a spot on his neck that looks particularly inviting and lay a pretty hot (go me!) open mouthed kiss on, "mmmhm." He mutters as my teeth hit his skin and I go on my way, sucking on his creamy, white neck sort of casually. I finish and plot my assault on his mouth now, but I don't get very far before he rolls us over and halts what could have been a nice make out.

"It's cute because you're such a firecracker here but as soon as we leave Kurt and Blaine world you're so…innocent, I guess is the word." I very badly want to grab his crotch and say something like, "Babe, I'm far from innocent" really huskily into his neck, but I refrain from doing so because that's about the cheesiest thought that's ever crossed my mind. Instead I just push myself out from under him and lay next to him on my back. He props himself up on his elbow.

"I'm trying to be more comfortable…it's just…I don't like talking about sex and stuff. It's weird to me." I explain, looking up at him uncomfortably.

He gives me an endearing half smile, "Well I think I came up with a solution for your wet dreams." Never in a million years would I have thought that that sentence could be sexy enough to make me want to jump someone's bones. The power of Blaine, ladies and gents.

"Do tell." I remain nonchalant. Or try my hardest. I'm not very good at being nonchalant when I'm in my boyfriend's bed. Which smells like him-like his natural scent. Talking about nocturnal emission.

"Kurt. My next question is going to make you feel really uncomfortable-"

"How would you know?" I ask, appalled that he'd make the assumption, though probably true. He grinned at me again,

"I know you too well," I beamed back at him and after a beat or two, the smiles wore off and Blaine attempted to regain his composure, trying to figure out to word his next question.

"Kurt. Do you ever…masturbate?" Ah, he went the direct and shocking route, I see. I bolted upright. I could almost feel my pupils becoming dinner plate sized.

"No?" My answer came out more as a question than anything. This time Blaine doesn't laugh. Instead he sits up to face me and takes my hand again.

"It's totally normal. And I think you need to start. I'm no doctor but I'm guessing you're having these wet dreams because you aren't getting any release anywhere else. It's part of being a horny teenager." He tells me in all seriousness. It takes me a second, but I work up the courage to speak,

"So…jerking off is…normal?" I ask. Blaine's grin is back.

"Yes, Kurt. It's completely normal. And I'll let you in on something, everyone does it. Like…everyone." He tells me.

Does that mean Blaine does it?

"Does that mean you do it?" I can't contain myself. I have to know if something that unbelievably hot goes on in this world. Blaine giggles a little bit,

"Yeah, when I need to." Good. God. I squirm a bit, not because the conversation is uncomfortable (it is), but because my skin is flushing and my heart is going a little faster because all I see in my mind is Blaine laying sprawled out on his bed after a hard day, his hand sliding down his stomach, gliding under his waistband. His eyes roll back into his head and he makes those noises of absolute pleasure as he strokes himself, imagining it was someone else's hand (in my fantasy, it's mine, but you know I guess it's an ego thing).

I gulp.

"How do you know when you need to? Like, when am I supposed to do it?" I ask, shoving my thoughts of him biting his bottom lip as he gets close.

"Whenever you feel like it. When you're stressed out it helps relax you. You know those moods you get in when you just want to fuck something?" Blaine asks. I feel a shiver go down my spine. I love it when he says fuck. I bite my bottom lip and nod.

"Yeah, you're the type of person who just ignores those feelings and then you end holding them all in until you get so horny you come in your sleep. Whenever you feel like that just…help yourself out. Ha, 'give yourself a hand'." He jokes, making me laugh.

"Okay…I'll try it." I tell him.

"Good. It really helps, trust me. And it lets you know what you like." My face must have been blank because he continued, "You know…what you like in bed." Still blank faced, "From me." He lowers his head and his eyes look a little hazier. I nod, mystified.

"I'm glad we had this talk." Blaine says after I remain silent. I don't respond, I'm still think about him getting himself off. I'm so glad people can't read my mind.

"I think I'll help you." Blaine says suddenly. I don't know what he means by that but the next thing I know, he's on top of me. His lips hit mine. Hard. Pretty sure they're bruised, if that's possible. The next kiss is truly a mouth assault and it's pretty damn hot. I used to think tonguing was sort of gross-I mean, it's someone's tongue for Christ's sake-but Blaine's is welcome in my mouth anytime. Just as I think he's being the dominant one in this situation, he flips us so I'm on top, passing the lead over to me.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my words like rapid fire as his hand parts us at the pelvic area. The loss of contact there almost made me whimper, but I contained myself.

"Showing you how it's done." He answers before giving me truly the most intense kiss we've ever had. It was full frontal, wet and just plain hot (common adjective used around Blaine, I've noted). The kiss alone sent the blood rushing immediately downstairs, but then Blaine slid his hand down his pants, just as I'd imagined. He works for a bit, moaning my name into my mouth, which has got to be the biggest self confidence boost I've ever experienced, until we part for air.

"You want to try?" He asks. I nod skeptically as he takes my hand. Oh God my pants are tight. He slides it down to where his had been just seconds ago until we come together. Both of us let out a moan at the contact and I can feel his cock twitch as I wrap my hand around, sort of unsure what to do. Blaine shudders but manages to realize that I need help and puts his hand over mine, showing me the motion of things.

Pretty soon I can feel the pre-cum on his tip, at which point Blain's hips roll off of his bed, thrusting lightly into my hand. It takes him a second to calm down before he gently removes my hand.

"Why'd you do that?" I asked, my voice lower than I remembered. He sighs and his face looks almost like he's in pain.

"I can finish later. I just wanted you to get the idea. Plus," He points at the giant bulge in my khakis.

"Gee, thanks for that. Not like I have to drive home or anything."I roll my eyes playfully. He still looks pained. I guess I should probably go, he really needs to finish that off before things get ugly. Blaine walks me to the door,

"I'd give you a kiss but I don't want cum all over my pants." He half jokes. I smile at him and give him a peck on the cheek.

"Thank you. And I will definitely take your advice. Heavens knows I need to do something." I grimace as I glance down. Blaine smiles and waves goodbye as I enter my car.

As the door closes I throw my head back. Shit. I'm actually going to do this, aren't I?

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><p><strong>So I've never written slash before, or from anything other than 3rd person, so if I didn't do it justice, let me know!<strong>

**~Rhea  
><strong>


	2. The Solution pt1

**A few notes from your's truly: **

**-This chapter is short and I appologize for that, it's just that if I don't get SOMETHING out I will be stuck in this little writer's block I find myself in for so long that I forget this story is even out there. Don't you worry, I am working on chapter three (which will actually contain some action)!  
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**-Thank y'all so much for all the attention you've given my little story, this is a first for me in many ways and while writing gay teenage boys is a little tough for me (I'm a straight sixteen year old girl with "about as much sexual knowledge and experience as a baby penguin":) the feedback is helping me a ton! *cough, cough* keep it comin'!**

**Anyway, think of this as a teaser to hold you over-enjoy;)  
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><p>Let's cut to the chase. My history with masturbation is short and unpleasant-unlike my manhood. just kidding. (except not really). I have gotten myself off before, or started to anyway. I was young you see, thirteen, and it was really late and I just wanted to go to sleep but I couldn't. To say my hard-on was raging would have been a bit of an understatement-I was pitching a tent so big Boy Scouts could have camped under there. Finally I did the first thing I could think of to relieve it, I just went to town. I didn't finish but instead fell asleep somewhere in the middle-big mistake on my part.<p>

The next morning I woke up with my comforter under my chin, suspiciously tucked in. I did not do that and while it weirded me out a bit, I went about my day. And then came the mortifying part-as I went downstairs for breakfast my dad's (at the time) live-in girlfriend and I exchanged some harmless small talk which ended with:

"Oh, hey, Kurt. Uh…the next time you play with your toys, how about putting them away when you're done? Scared the Jesus out of me last night when I went to put your laundry in your room. " She laughed awkwardly, trying to ease the tension, definitely unaware that she had just scarred me for life.

And that's the last time I purposefully rubbed the magic lamp.

However, the slight throbbing, tight sensation between my thighs is telling me that's going to have to change. And sometime here pretty quick.

I park the car outside the front of the house and sigh-it's a good feeling, knowing you've got the place to yourself for a bit. Somehow I manage to find my way upstairs, drop my bag on the floor next to my chaise and sit down at the foot my bed.

I'm pretty sure I'm the most awkward person in the world-sitting there, smack in the middle of the foot of my bed, with an erection, twiddling my thumbs trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do, exactly.

I mean, I know the motions of it all and the technical stuff. I just don't know where to start. Should I light some candles? Should I put on some 'sexy times' music? Should I take myself out for dinner first? I really suck at being at normal human.

After a few minutes pass I make a last-ditch effort by removing my slacks and blazer/shirt/tie so that I'm now sitting in just my undershirt and black satin boxer-briefs. The lack of clothing however, only makes me more anxious.

Sighing, I do the only logical thing one does in my situation. I call Blaine.

"What am I supposed to do?" I ask meekly over the phone, red permeating through my cheeks. I can practically see his eyes shining at me as he stifles a laugh. God bless him, he tries.

"Well just, you know, take your pants off, or unzip them at the very least-"

"No, no. I mean…How am I supposed to get myself…ready?" I ask, biting my lip.

"Kurt, your dick is throbbing. That sounds like ready to me." Blaine teases. I squirm uncomfortably for about the eighth time today and grimace as I realize the extreme amount of truth behind his statement. It should be easy. I mean, it is for every other male-and I'm assuming most females-in the world. You just sort of…do it. But for me, every time I go in for it, I just feel the same way I did when my dad's girlfriend confronted me at breakfast when I was 13. Like I'm ashamed and I want to barf. But Blaine can help me. I trust him. And therefore I bombard him with questions.

"Well I mean, should I light some candles, should I put on music? What am I supposed to think about? Am I supposed to think about you, I mean you are my boyfriend- am I even supposed to think?" My voice becomes frantic and I can feel myself start to soften up a little down there. That can't be good. There's a silence on the other end of the line and then a sigh-not an annoyed sigh, just an airy, almost humored sigh.

"Tell you what, Kurt. I'm going to help you out even more." His tone now has an edge to it. A sense of need, want. Determination.

"…Okay…" I respond shakily, "What did you have in mind?" I ask, sliding behind me on my bed so that my back is leaning up against the headboard.

"Kurt, what are you wearing?" He asks me in a voice that can only be described as downright fucking _sexy._

It's now that I wave goodbye to 13 year old me and strip away my inhibitions with my remaining pieces of clothing. For a second a wave of embarrassment passes over me but that floods away as soon as I hear his little moan as a reaction to my quiet, understated yet still pretty hot response of, "Nothing."

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><p><strong>Again, sorry it's so short, it will be longer next time! <strong>

**Reviews are always welcome:)  
><strong>

**~Rhea**

**"Oh Bambi. I cried so hard when those hunters shot your mommy."  
><strong>


	3. The Solution pt2

**Wow, sorry for this taking forever and a day to get out there! I'd like to make excuses, but I ended up not having to take most of my finals so I really don't have any-other than I'm just lazy. **

**Sorry to have kept you waiting, please review-they make my day! **

**Also, check out my profile, I wrote a Glee (CrissColfer) RPF recently and it would mean the world if you'd check it out and REVIEW! *hint hint***

**Enjoy !**

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><p>There is something about sound that really gets me going (I know that was a vague statement, but just go with it). I mean, I don't watch porn-for several long winded reasons which I will not delve into at this very moment-but I do watch horror movies. And I know for a fact that if you put the movie on mute, everything becomes decidedly less scary. I'm assuming porn is the same way, if you put it on mute and you can't hear any of the moaning and the grunting and the, well, you know, sex noises-it's probably not as hot. Which proves, and generalizes, my statement-sounds and noises and such really get people's rocks off.<p>

Maybe it's because of Freud's whole 'Ego' concept, wherein the ego is constantly looking for praise. And it could be argued that someone groaning like a whore every time you touch them is praise. 'Stroking the ego', I guess you could say. Pretty sure there's a dirty joke in there somewhere if you look hard enough.

Anyway, regardless of _why _it works-I do know that it does work. For me, anyway. How do I know this? Because as soon as I hear Blaine on the other end of the line giving a soft, understated moan of my name, my hand can't help but to reach down and wrap around myself. And hot. damn.

It feels fucking awesome.

Like, seriously, if I had known what my traumatic childhood experience had been keeping me from all this time, I would have built a bridge and gotten over it awhile back during that time when I didn't have a boyfriend and I wasn't getting any sort of action. Because it's really wonderful feeling.

As for the act of the phone sex in and of itself: He doesn't say much, and I don't really know what to say because everything I put together in my head just sounds embarrassingly cheesy and just…pathetic, so I stay silent for the most part. It's pretty awkward, in all honesty, but also sort of cool because I've never been comfortable with someone to the point that I would jerk off over the phone with them. It's nice being able to trust someone. Especially someone who you love-because then you can trust that they love you back.

"You're so…hot…Kurt…" Blaine breathes into the phone and I can't stop my mind from forming a picture in my head wherein each of his words are punctuated by a thrust of his hips as he imagines me roaming all over him, my hand (or who knows, possibly my mouth) are wrapped around his cock, bringing him pleasure like he's never before experienced. My head falls back and I can feel myself biting into my bottom lip as I let out a mildly over the top moan.

"Mmmhm…I'm not going to last much longer if you keep…doing that…" He breathed across the wire, this time a little more desperate and whiny, I can tell his face is getting all screwy as he tries to contain himself, like earlier today.

"I don't want you to last much longer. I want you to come. Hard. Harder than you've ever come before. And I want you to say my name when you do." Yeah, I don't know where it came from, but it somehow to managed to float out of my mouth, which is now hanging half open as I tighten my grip a little and speed up some-just like they say, friction is a guy's best friend.

There's a breathy, wet moan and then the sound of his head hitting the pillow and his hips arching up off of his bed.

"Kuuuuuu-rt…" He babbles rather incoherently, his voice so needy and vulnerable and…fuckable. I can't hold back my grunt as I speed up my pace again. I start to get this feeling, like a tightening, sort of like I'm going to pee but…different? Instinctively ,I knew what was happening,

"Fuck! Blaine!" I'm much louder than he is and I practically scream his name as I can feel my body float upward and slam down simultaneously, and in the back of my head I thank God that no one's home.

My heart slowly puts the brakes on and stops racing out of my chest and that lightheaded feeling you get when you stand up too fast begins to fade as well. And that's when I realize how incredibly weird this whole thing is. Because now I'm naked and sticky and on speakerphone. Waiting for him to say something. Or for anyone to say anything.

"So…" I finally let out.

"Did you do it?" He askes in a dazed, light way that is just as curious and excited as always. I can't help but crack a grin,

"…yeah." I can practically feel him smile,

"Cool. That should solve your problems." I nod in agreement, not realizing that we're on the phone and he can't actually see me nod…

"Hey Kurt?" He asks.

"Hmm?"

"Are we still on for our date?" He responds in his dapper, chivalrous tone.

How the hell did I land someone this perfect?

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><p><strong>Hope you liked it and if you have any constructive criticism you'd like to pass on, let me know! <strong>

**Might make a fourth chapter, who knows:P**

**Love to you all: **

**~Rhea  
><strong>


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